


Study Break

by StarXrossed



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarXrossed/pseuds/StarXrossed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes study breaks get a little out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Study Break

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god this is the first time i've ever written something that's like really nsfw so holy shit i'm probably super off on everything i don't read smut i don't write smut please don't look at me i'm so embarrassed oh my g od;;;;;;;;

"Okay, okay, my turn!"    
  
Asahina shifted, tucking her legs under herself and putting her palms on her thighs; she and Ishimaru had been perched on his bed for the last two hours slogging through math problem after math problem.  Asahina had finally slammed her book shut and announced that they were taking a break, whether Ishimaru agreed or not.  
  
He, of course, begrudgingly did.  
  
Now they sat atop Ishimaru's bed, playing a game of truth or dare.  Or, rather, truth or get harrassed into telling the truth, Ishimaru quickly learned when he attempted to pick the dare option.    
  
"A-Asahina-kun, must we--"  
  
" _Yes,_ " Asahina interrupted, puffing out her cheeks.  "We're still on break!"  
  
"We've been on break for a half hour."  
  
She rolled her eyes.  "You say that like it's a bad thing."  
  
"But it is, we should be st--"  
  
" _My turn,_ " Asahina repeated, more emphatically this time.    
  
Ishimaru sighed, crossing his legs and furrowing his brow.  If it had been anyone else--Oowada, Fujisaki, Souda, Tanaka--he probably would have put up more of a fuss.  But Asahina?  No, somehow she could get away with just about anything with him.  He wasn't sure how that happened, how she managed to somehow convince him to go against his normal code.    
  
The other day, she had convinced him to accompany her to the pool for a late night swim--which rapidly devolved into her attempting to teach him butterfly, which he quickly learned he did not possess the rhythm to learn.  Two weeks prior, she had managed to talk him into helping her bake doughnuts.  That wouldn't have been so bad, if it hadn't been  _seven dozen_.  (And by the end of the fortnight, they were all gone, and the number he himself had consumed could be counted on one hand.)    
  
Even now, as she tapped her chin and pondered what piece of information she could pry out of him next, he wondered how she was able to manipulate him so easily.  
  
He had asked Fujisaki about it after what he deemed "The Great Doughnut Genocide of 2013", hoping to get an outside opinion.  The programmer didn't even look away from their screen when they responded, "You like her, dummy."  
  
"I-i do not!"  
  
"Yeah, you do," Fujisaki snorted, their fingers not missing a beat as they typed.  "You're head over heels for her."  
  
"N-no, I'm not!" Ishimaru said louder than necessary, his shoulders stiffening.  What an absurd accusation!  Of course he liked Asahina.  But as a friend, a very close friend.  Questionably the closest female friend he had, rivaled only but Ikusaba.  Asahina was a little less intimidating, though, and thus he found himself spending more time with her as a result.  And yes, he did enjoy her company; she was a very animated young lady, friendly and outgoing, the most amiable of his classmates.  She went out of her way to converse with him every day, worked out with him when their paths crossed in the gym, attempted to teach him various strokes in return for his assistance in her school work.  And yes, his pulse sometimes quickened when she brushed past him to get to her seat, and sometimes he couldn't help sneaking a glance as she stretched before swimming, and her smile was so bright he was almost sure it could be used as a light source if the need arose.  
  
But he didn't "like her" like her.  
  
He didn't think.  
  
He vocalized his thoughts to Fujisaki, who looked up at him through their bangs, brows low over their eyes.  "Ishimaru-kun.  That's what people feel when they like someone."  
  
He blinked.  "W-wait.  Is that true?"  
  
" _Kiyotaka._ "  
  
And so, Ishimaru had attributed Asahina's ability to bend to her whims to this.  In all honesty, the thought had really never occurred to him.  He threw himself into his schoolwork and responsibilities first and foremost, shoving all distractions to the back burner.  Unfortunately, sometimes said distractions included relationships with his classmates.  Thus, it was such a foreign concept to him, actually having a romantic interest in someone.  
  
Over the week, though, he allowed himself to dwell on the topic, actually embrace whatever emotions he felt in Asahina's presence, as an experiment of sorts.  His eyes drifted towards her during lulls in class, his heart racing when their eyes met and she gave a cheerful waggle of her fingers.  His face flushed as she helped him with his streamline during their impromptu swim practice, her chest against his back, her breath on his neck.  He studied her in hurried glances, taking in her broad shoulders, the gentle curve of her neck, her chest, her waist, her thighs, and god if it didn't set his mind racing and his stomach clenching in a way that wasn't necessarily unpleasant.  
  
Fujisaki was right.  He liked the girl.  
  
"I've got it!"   
  
The sudden outburst drew Ishimaru from his thoughts, but he quickly recovered, his lips drawing into a taut line as he awaited Asahina's inquiry.  
  
"So!  Have you ever kissed someone, Ishimaru?"  
  
The black-haired boy sputtered in response.  
  
"Oi!  That's no answer!!"  Asahina crossed her arms, glaring at Ishimaru.  "C'mon, c'mon, I'm really curious!"  
  
"D-do I give off the aura that I have?" Ishimaru finally managed, his face growing warm.    
  
Asahina shrugged.  "I dunno.  I mean, for all I know, you might be a sexual deviant--"  Ishimaru sputtered again, visibly jolting at the accusation.  "--or something!  I thought I'd start small and work my way up."    
  
"I-i assure you, I am nothing of the sort!" he stammered hurriedly, eyes wide and locked on Asahina's own.  
  
"So does that mean you haven't kissed anyone?"  
  
Ishimaru stared pointedly at his lap.  "W-well, th-that's not true, exactly...."  
  
" _WHOA._ "  Asahina leaned forward, eyebrows arching so high they threatened to meet her hairline.  "Y-you have?  Who who was it who details!"  Her words tumbled out quickly, her gaze on Ishimaru intent.  
  
Ishimaru flushed, Asahina's stare burning holes into the top of his head.  "W-well...."  
  
"Is it someone I know?"  
  
"U-um.  I believe so...."  
  
Asahina leaned forward, glaring at Ishimaru.  "C'mon, Ishimaru, I wanna know!  Who's the lucky lady?"  
  
Ishimaru hesitated, before stammering out, "U-um.  F-fujisaki-kun."  
  
Asahina opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, furrowing her brow.  "Really?  That's...not who I would have expected....  But then again, you two do hang out quite a bit!  But I thought she was dating Oowada?"  
  
Ishimaru was positive that his face was redder than Asahina's jacket, there was no doubt in his mind.  "It w-was a...um...a friend thing, that is all.  They-- _she_  is, though."    
  
"Huh.  A 'friend thing'.  Still, I'm impressed!"  The girl grinned, waggling her eyebrows.  "You really  _have_  had a first kiss!  Y'know, you're doing better than me, aha~"  
  
Ishimaru's head snapped up, mouth agape.  Was--did he--  "Pardon me?!"  
  
"Pardon what?"  
  
"Y-you've never been kissed?"  
  
Now a rosy tint crept into Asahina's cheeks, as she scratched her chin and averted her gaze.  "Ah...ha ha...."  She glanced back at Ishimaru.  "Well.  I've never really, y'know, had a boyfriend or anything.  Sports and stuff has always come first!  It...doesn't leave much time for girly things like dressing pretty and wearing make-up, and...that's what guys look for, right?  So...no.  I h-haven't," she admitted rather sheephisly.    
  
"A-asahina-kun--"  
  
"I mean, i-it's not a big deal, right?  I mean, it'll happen one day, right?"  
  
"W-well, yes, but--"  
  
"And I'll find some really cool guy, like Ian Thorpe or Ryan Lochte, and it'll be great!  Who cares if I haven't been kissed yet?!"  As she spoke, Asahina's voice became progressively higher pitched and rough, finishing by grimacing and staring at her lap.  Her cheeks were flushed, and Ishimaru could see tears beading up along her lower eyelids.  She hastily wiped her sleeve across her eyes.  "It's fine.  It's fine."    
  
But it clearly wasn't.  Ishimaru fidgeted awkwardly.  He was abysmally bad at comforting people.  Painfully so.  Still, he hesitantly leaned forward, gently placing his hand atop the one in Asahina's lap.  "Asahina-kun, i-it's nothing to be ashamed of.  Had it not been for Fujisaki-kun, I would not have had a first kiss either...!  But.  But please don't be sad.  I-i mean, I am sure there is someone out there who would be honored to say that he or she was your first kiss!"  
  
"As if," she muttered.  Still, she didn't draw her hand away.  
  
"No, I-i am sure of it!  Who wouldn't w-want to kiss you?"  
  
Asahina's head whipped up.  "What, are you volunteering?!" she snapped.  
  
"Yes--" Ishimaru blurted before abruptly cutting himself off.  Well.  It wasn't like the thought hadn't occurred to him before; he  _had_  considered kissing Asahina-kun once or twice.  Or thirteen times.  Usually escalating quickly past that point, if he was alone.  So much so that he would have to sit up in bed and forcibly calm himself down.    
  
Asahina stared at Ishimaru, her face growing progressively redder as she let Ishimaru's slip sink in.  "Y-you--  You wh-what?"  
  
"I-i mean, you are an attractive young lady, and anyone would be honored to have you!  A-and I am...no exception," he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.  "I just....  It saddens me to think that you do not think you are...'worthy' to someone.  Because you're lovely!  And kind!  A-and a good person!"  His voice began to pick up pitch and volume as he continued to babble, his eyes now locked with Asahina's.  "And you deserve the best, you deserve to be happy!  You deserve someone who cares about you deeply!  You deserve someone who would give you a proper romantic kiss and would make you feel as special as you are and--"  
  
He was cut off abruptly as Asahina bridged the gap between them and lightly pressed her lips to his own midsentence.  His mind was torn between whirling into overdrive and ceasing function altogether.  When Asahina leaned back, he settled for a "wh-wh...." in response.  
  
"You were getting really loud, I didn't know how else to quiet you down," the girl laughed sheepishly.  "I-it seemed like a good idea at the time, b-but.  Wow, uhm.  That wasn't a very romantic first kiss, y'know?"    
  
The black-haired boy reeled in the aftermath, still trying to make heads or tails of what happened.  It was such an abrupt action.  God, he'd not had time to prepare himself, but he could still feel the light brush of Asahina's lips, the heady scent of her shampoo and the familiar smell of chlorine and--  
  
"Wh-what is your idea of romantic, then!" he blurted.  "I-i shall do my best to amend--to--a do-over!"  
  
Asahina blinked.  "A-a do-over?"  
  
Ishimaru leaned forward, grabbing the girl's hands in his own.  "I-i said you deserve the best, didn't I?  And while I-i am probably not the best person to...to do this...I will do whatever I can in my power to--to--"  He flushed.  "I am not very good at romance, but I can attempt.  I-if you would...like that, I-i mean."  
  
The girl stammered quietly, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.  "I-i mean!!  You don't...n-need to do that...."  She fidgeted, looking down at their hands, before continuing.  "But.  I-i mean.  If.  I-if you want...to...."  She pointedly avoided looking him in the eyes.  
  
"I do!  I-i do!"  His voice came out higher than he intended, his face as red as his eyes.  "I-i'm sorry, I...just want to make...it memorable."    
  
"That.  Th-that might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me.  You might be the sweetest person I've ever met...."  Asahina looked down at her lap, then glanced up at Ishimaru, her bangs falling in her eyes.  "Y-you...really mean it?"  
  
As if in response, Ishimaru leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers gingerly.  He pulled away, flicking his eyes up to meet hers, nodding slowly.    
  
Asahina took a deep breath, seemingly collecting herself.  "Okay.  Okay.  Um.  I-i've, um.  Never really put a lot of thought into it, but....  Well, I guess I always imagined some really cool guy sweeping me off my feet, y'know?  Taking me to a fancy dinner or to a really romantic movie or to an aquarium or something.  And then we'd head back to one of our places and he'd kiss me really tenderly and invite me indoors for a drink or something and then it'd start raining and he'd insist on me staying the night because of the storming and we'd just curl up in bed or on the couch and snuggle and--"  Asahina clamped her eyes shut, shaking her head from side to side.  "F-forget it.  It's dumb, I'm really sorry."  
  
"No, n-no, that sounds very romantic!" Ishimaru said hurriedly, squeezing her hands gently.  "A-although, we might be a little off timeline wise...."  He cut his eyes to the side, chuckling sheepishly.  "Dinner first and all...."  
  
"Well.  You could, u-um.  Take me out tomorrow?"    
  
"I-i!  I would be more than happy!" he babbled, his cheeks blazing.  "Honored, even!"    
  
"B-but, for right now....  I-i'd be okay with the, uhm.  Other.  Part."  Asahina laughed awkwardly, and god, the way her lips twitched up into that smile--Ishimaru's heart started having palpitations.  "If y-you are, I mean of course!"  
  
"No, that's--!  I-i--"  Ishimaru cut himself off, finishing his reply with another nod before he became more tongue-tied.  God, why was he so  _bad_ at this?  He could hear his heartbeat in his ears drumming out an incessant pattern, and god he couldn't stand it, the demure way she watched his expression from under her bangs, how soft and rosy her lips were, the way they were parted slightly and--  
  
One hand worked its way behind her neck, the other atop her thigh as he crashed his lips onto hers, and she answered with a ferocity he'd not been expecting, a need that rivaled his own.  He felt her hands, now free from his own, on his chest, just placed there, not pushing or pulling.  God, everything felt like it had come to a halt, and the only thing he could feel were Asahina's hands, her neck, her hair, her leg, her lips,  _god her lips_.    
  
It wasn't until they were both gasping for air that they broke apart, Ishimaru's hand slipping to Asahina's shoulder.  There was a short pause before Asahina's hands snaked up to the collar of Ishimaru's gakuran.  
  
"A-asahina--"  
  
"This is starched to hell and back, there's no way you can be comfortable in this," Asahina responded, running her fingers along the button before deftly unhooking it.  Ishimaru gaped for a moment, confused at how forward she was, until she hesitantly met his gaze.  His expression softened, realizing this was her way of asking permission, assuring  _he_  was okay with it.  He closed his eyes and nodded, and he felt Asahina's hands slide down to the next button, the next, the next, until the last was undone and she gently pushed the uniform off his shoulders.  The starch fabric didn't bunch around his wrists as most would, so he gently lifted his right hand, then his left, allowing the girl to tug the top off his arms, until his upper body was completely bare.  When he opened his eyes, he saw her gingerly set the uniform aside, careful to minimize the wrinkles.  
  
 _God, she was perfect._  
  
She turned back to him, noticing the grin on his lips.  "Wh-what?"   
  
He shook his head, still smiling.  "Nothing, n-nothing."  He closed his eyes again, chuckling lightly as she hesitantly grazed his chest with her fingertips, dragging her fingers down over his abdominal muscles and--  
  
He inhaled sharply as she reached his thighs and holy shit he felt every part of his body stiffen that was unexpected and abrupt.  
  
She started towards his belt, and Ishimaru grabbed her hands, pulling Asahina into his lap with a squeak.  "I-ishimaru--"  
  
But he didn't respond audibly, grasping the flaps of her hooded jacket and tugging it down, exposing her tanned neck and shoulders.  He didn't even bother restraining himself, gently running his lips against the skin, one hand resting on her upper arm, the other creeping under her tanktop and grazing her stomach.  And god, the way her breath hitched at his touch, the way her back arched into his hand, it set his every muscle on fire.  And he kissed her hard, inhaling her scent, reveling in the way her hips pressed back against him.    
  
That soft, muffled groan she tried to stifle was the final straw, and he hooked his thumb under the tank, pulling it over her head (thankfully, she understood his actions, compliantly lifting her arms to assist him), his lips again at the crook of her neck, her strong shoulders, the thin strip of pale skin from her swim suit tanline--  
  
"Lean forward," he whispered softly, and Asahina did so, allowing him to unclasp the bit of metal and fabric holding her bra together (he made a mental reminder to mention to Kuwata that those apparently weren't as difficult to unhook as the baseball player had made them out to be), and the bra slipped forward, gathering at Asahina's wrists.  Her breath came out in a low hiss as he brushed his fingers across her breasts, squirming under his touch.  His body was moving on autopilot, his mind too cloudy to operate properly, too busy reeling from feeling her back against his chest, hearing her quiet whines, drinking in every bit of her he could.  He was dimly aware of what was happening when his fingers snaked beneath the waistband of Asahina's shorts, her underwear--  
  
She gasped as Ishimaru gingerly touched the apex of her thighs, instinctively leaning back into him, pressing her hips down, and he was positive she could feel his erection through his pants there was literally no doubt in his mind.  And still, his body moved of its own accord, and she didn't even bother concealing the moan that escaped her lips as he slipped two fingers inside of her, fidgeting in his lap and biting her lip as he gently stroked--  
  
And suddenly Asahina grabbed his hand, and he yelped in surprise as she flipped over in his lap, her lips against his, leaning forward until his back hit the mattress, grinding her hips against his, and their breaths were reduced to short, broken gasps.  And god, the way her hair fell from her bun, the way her fingers worked through his short cropped hair, her breasts pressed against his pectorals--not even in Ishimaru's wildest fantasies could he have imagined this; it was so much better than any daydream his mind could have conjured.  

  
Asahina didn't protest when he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her shorts, but as he started to pull them down, she placed her hands on the bed, pushing herself up.  Ishimaru blinked and started to ask if he was going to fast, but Asahina stared him dead in the eye, wriggling out of his grip.  He flushed; oh god he'd made a mistake, a horrible mistake, god he'd gotten so caught up that he'd been rushing things and oh my god she hates him she must how could he have been so foolish--    
  
But no, she pulled her shorts and underwear down, kicking them across the small apartment room, where they hit the door and fell limply.  She glanced back at the boy, her cheeks pink but her eyebrows arched, the corners of her lips curled up every so slightly.    
  
How Ishimaru's face had not spontaneously combusted from the heat in his cheeks was beyond his comprehension.    
  
"W-well?"  Asahina stared at the mattress, not meeting Ishimaru's gaze.  "Do you--  D-do--"  
  
"Y-yes!"  Ishimaru could have kicked himself with how readily he jumped to respond, bounding off the bed and rummaging through his desk.  He kept a box of condoms on hand, not for his own use, but in case his classmates expressed a need in one or two.  He was suddenly very thankful for his overprotectiveness; he'd never imagined he'd be using one from his own supply, but then again, he'd never imagined Asahina liking him, and well.  There they were.  
  
He returned back to the bed, condom in hand, and before he could, Asahina's hand were at his belt, swiftly unclasping it, closely followed by his pants button and zipper, tugging the uniform down.  Ishimaru pressed the back of his hand against his lips to stifle his groan as Asahina lightly grazed his shaft through his briefs; even through the fabric, he could still feel her fingertips against him and  _god_  if it didn't make his stomach flip over like a pancake.    
  
It took mere seconds for him to shed his underwear, tear open the foil packet, and slide the condom over his cock, his heart beating a mile a minute as he hopped back on the bed.  Asahina watched him carefully, leaning back onto the mattress, her breath slow and even as he straddled her.  Still, he could tell her pulse was racing almost as badly as his own, and he leaned down, his face inches from her own.  His voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he spoke.  "We don't have to do this.  I.  I would never want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable."  
  
"I know that," came the whispered response.  
  
"You know that," he echoed.  "Okay.  O-okay."  He exhaled slowly, gently guiding his member into Asahina, his lips against her neck.  She audibly gasped, her fingertips pressing into his back, her hips raising up to meet his.  "Okay?" he murmured into her skin, and he felt her nod her assent, fingers against his shoulders now.  His mouth trailed down to her collarbone, as he shifted his hips back, groaning himself.  He set to a slow, steady rhythm, rolling forward and back, and Asahina squirmed, her breath labored as she kept pace, whining quietly until Ishimaru enveloped her lips with his own, and they moved in tandem, the only sound the quiet creaking of the springs and their sharp hurried breaths.  Gradually, Ishimaru increased his speed, thrusting harder, pressing his hips into Asahina's, and _god_  the way she responded so readily, the way she moaned into his mouth, her breasts heaving against his chest, her short nails digging into his back and god he loved her he loved everything about her and it was all he could do to maintain his composure as she groaned his name, his  _first_ name and her entire body clenched and released in one violent, sharp moment, and god he was seeing spots as he finally came, her name on his lips.  
  
They stayed that way for a while, pressed together, limbs entangled, Ishimaru's face nuzzled into Asahina's neck, pressing feather-light kisses against her warm skin.  When they'd both caught their breath, Ishimaru ran his fingertips down Asahina's waist.  "A-are you--"  
  
"I-i am," she responded, turning her head to graze his temple with her lips.  He could feel her smile.  "That was...quite romantic."  
  
It was all Ishimaru could do to stop himself from snorting in response.  Even he knew that was the epitome if 'not romantic', but he still appreciated Asahina's words nonetheless.  
  
"No, I mean it," she snuggled against the boy.  "It really was."  
  
"Even without the rain?"  
  
As if on cue, a clap of thunder echoed through the room, and Asahina visibly jumped, squeezing Ishimaru roughly in her surprise.  After a few seconds, both of them collapsed into a fit of giggles.  "I-i guess I spoke too soon."  
  
"Are Oowada and Fujisaki home?" Asahina whispered.    
  
"As far as I know, they are not."  Ishimaru raised an eyebrow quizically, as Asahina tugged herself away from him, starting to pull her undergarments back on.  "What--"  
  
"There's a swimming competition on television, and I thought we could watch it!  You've been having some trouble with butterfly, so I thought if you could watch some professionals swimming it, maybe it'll help you pick up the right technique, y'know?" she smiled, wriggling into her tank.  "Plus.  Y'know.  Snuggling under a blanket in the rain and watching TV is pretty romantic, right?"  
  
Ishimaru flushed, but he slowly nodded.  "Right.  R-right.  Let me get a blanket, Asahina-kun."  He hesitated for a moment, then amended himself.  "A-aoi."  
  
And so they lay cuddled up on the couch, Ishimaru's arm draped lazily over Asahina's shoulders, their fingers interlocked, in a comfortable silence broken only by Asahina's yelled criticisms of certain swimmers' strokes and Ishimaru's chuckles in response.  Yes, it wasn't a storybook romance, but, truth be told, when was anything in Ishimaru's life like that?    
  
As he nuzzled her neck and shut his eyes, he was suddenly very thankful Asahina had insisted on taking a study break.


End file.
